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‘…and nights like these . ’

All Sunday morning, his words float through my mind countless times, distracting me from every task and making my heart thrum with happiness.

Four simple words that I can’t shake. The image of him smiling at me and saying that replays over and over and over in my head.

I feel like I’m practically skipping around the village.

He’s literally putting a spring in my step.

I think I’m in trouble here.

Saturday was an unforgettable night, but it didn’t quite end the way I’d hoped – Leo didn’t stay the night.

When he got up to leave and made it clear that he was heading home, I was stunned, and the fear began to creep in.

What had I said or done to prompt him to want to leave?

It’s not like he could have been confused as to whether I was up for it; we’d already had the most amazing sex a couple of nights earlier, and surely the kiss we had on his arrival could confirm for both of us what we wanted.

He must have read the concern in my expression as he put his hands on my hips and pulled me towards him, before his lips brushed against mine, and explained, ‘It’s our first proper date. I want to be chivalrous.’

I’m ashamed to admit, I deepened the kiss and pressed my body against his, murmuring, ‘Screw chivalry’, but despite the smile it drew from his lips, he resisted my efforts and stubbornly insisted on going home.

Watching him in disbelief head down the stairs from my doorway, I was tempted to shout out a reminder that we only had a week to enjoy each other’s company, but despite him leaving me in a state of frustration, I managed to retain some dignity and stop myself from doing so.

I woke up early Sunday to a message from him letting me know he was surfing Burgau, so I got ready and made my way down to the beach in time to see him heading into the water with Marina and a group of fellow surfers, some of whom I recognised from the party.

He’d paddled out with them before he glanced back on the beach to see me, lifting his hand to wave.

I waved back and even though I was far away, I swear I could see him break into a grin.

Maybe I was seeing what I wanted to see.

It was different, watching him surf with this group, compared to his other training sessions.

This one didn’t actually seem like a training session at all.

I could hear their laughter floating across the waves back to me on the beach as they chatted out there together, and I noticed Leo point and gesture at Marina, encouraging her to catch a good wave that was coming in.

None of them in the group were out here for themselves; they were sharing a passion, exchanging advice – from their cheers and whoops, I could hear the amount of enjoyment they got from watching their friends surf well.

It reminded me of that video I found of Leo and Ethan Anderson surfing as teenagers, before competitions got so serious and the success got in the way.

It made me hope that this upcoming trip to Australia would be healing for Leo, not just in surfing Bells Beach again, but also seeing those from the surfing community out there again.

Before they were rivals, they were friends.

I left the beach before they came in, dropping in on my local coffee shop again – ‘ Olá , Iris! I’ll get you coffee for your work. You’ll write well today because of me!’ – and then going straight back to the flat to work.

After a while, a welcome message distracts me:

Leo

Where did you go?

I had to write. I got some ideas

Leo

There I go inspiring you again

How do you know it wasn’t your surf buddies that inspired me?

Leo

You trying to make me jealous?

My heart somersaulting, I smile broadly. Leaving my laptop open on the balcony table, I stand up to wander into the lounge, flopping down on the sofa and clasping my phone in my hands like it’s the most precious item in the world.

I start typing a reply.

It did work out well for me last time

Leo

Even better for me. What are you doing tonight?

Are you hoping for a second date?

Leo

Yes

But that will have to wait

Dad and I are going to my uncle’s house. You want to come?

I pause. This could be an innocent invitation – speaking to family and friends is par for the course when it comes to these big features.

Leo’s uncle could be a valuable resource, but since I already have my interview with Adriano and I’m hoping to weave in quotes from Marina, or another of his local surf friends here, word count is already looking tight.

And after what’s happened between us, meeting other family members just seems a bit…

weird. I’d be nervous and confused, naturally wanting him to think well of me, but why ?

Sex is one thing, but emotional attachment is another, and family dinners is the sort of thing that leads to that.

I’m already a little too invested in this guy. We’re on the clock here.

If ever there was a time for self-preservation, this is it.

I’d love to, but I have to work

Leo

No worries

At least if you’re writing about me, I know you’ll be thinking of me

How do you know I’m working on your feature? I might have another commission There are a lot of talented, amazing athletes out there, you know

Leo

You really are trying to make me jealous

Is it working?

Leo

Yes. Tell me when I can see you again

Now , my brain begs. But he was the one who wanted to play it cool last night, refusing to stay over, even when I practically begged him to. Maybe I need to regain some control here.

Tomorrow might work

Leo

Second date tomorrow night then?

What are you doing early tomorrow morning?

I’m surfing Meia Praia

We have a Levant swell, can’t miss it

I could pick you up if you want to come?

You might be bored of training now

No, sounds good, thanks I’m just going to google ‘Levant swell’

Leo

My dad can talk you through it tomorrow. See you then xx

Kisses . Kisses at the end of his message.

My fingers hover over the keyboard of my phone, no idea what to do or how to reply.

But he goes offline swiftly after that, concluding the exchange.

Concluding it with kisses. How stupid is it that two little letters can cause such an effect?

Flirty messages I can handle, but this feels different.

Just a simple ‘xx’ and our conversation feels intimate.

Meaningful. Affectionate. I’m glad that message didn’t require a reply, because I don’t know if I can echo the sentiment.

Not when I’m saying goodbye in six days.

*

‘Levant waves are generated after southerly strong winds create heavy Mediterranean swells,’ Adriano tells me the next morning as we stand side by side on the vast, long stretch of sandy beach, sipping coffee from the flask that he very thoughtfully brought along for me.

‘They gain power as they head towards our coast. The water is warm; it’s a lot of fun.

You have to make the most of it when it happens. ’

I lower my cup, smiling as we watch Leo riding a wave, the water spraying out in a fan over his head whenever his board glides up towards the lip of the wave and cuts back down, manoeuvring with ease, generating speed as he goes.

‘He certainly looks like he’s doing that,’ I remark, as Leo twists and turns through the wave, adding in a rotation, whooping as he lands the spin, jumping off his board.

Adriano laughs, gesturing out to him. ‘Yes, look, he’s playful, like the water.’

‘Playful,’ I repeat, nodding. ‘That’s the perfect description.’ I turn to grin at him. ‘You’re missing out; you should go join him. I’m fine here on the beach.’

‘The waves are good; we could be out there for a while.’

‘That’s okay,’ I assure him, turning to look at Leo as he readies his board to paddle back out. He catches my eye and grins at me. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘All right,’ Adriano says in an amused voice, and when I tear my eyes from Leo to look at him, he’s giving me a knowing smile.

Blushing furiously knowing I’ve been caught in a dreamy daze, I quickly frown, looking down at my feet and kicking some sand off my toes. With a soft chuckle, Adriano takes his board towards the water, leaving me to shake off my embarrassment alone.

If he’s caught on to anything between me and Leo, at least he doesn’t look annoyed about it. In fact, if anything, he looked pleased.

One thing he didn’t look was surprised.

*

When we make our way back to the truck, Leo is glowing from the joy of the morning, his eyes gleaming, his cheeks flushed from the exercise, his smile unflappable.

I laugh at his and Adriano’s excitement as his dad throws an arm around his shoulders to share in Leo’s rambled gushing about how good it was out there.

I’ve definitely got at least another couple of paragraphs for the piece from this morning: this wonderful father-and-son scene is going to be a killer.

As Leo gets out of his wetsuit, Adriano does the same, throwing on a t-shirt and coming over to give both of us a hug before declaring he’ll see us back in Burgau – he has to get back to the shop.

Leo waits for his dad’s car to disappear before he grabs me at the waist, that adorably dopey smile still plastered on his face as I place my hands flat against his chest, tipping my head back to look up at him.

‘Thank you for coming today,’ he says, his arms wrapping tighter around me. ‘What did you think?’

‘I think,’ I say slowly, finding it impossible not to smile myself in the face of such elation, ‘that you were born to do this, Leo Silva.’